Werewolf in the Woods
by Intern of SHIELD
Summary: Bones found in the middle of the forest at six different points lead to two near-orphans and a case that ends with a very, very different reality for the team. Post season six
1. Chapter 1

**Well one marathon of Bones and a werewolf obsession later, this happened... so enjoy please, and review. Tell me if I should continue this or not. Please *puppy dog eyes* I'll give everyone who reviews a cookie.**

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><p>Dr. Jack Hodgins had always been on the fine line between normal and non-normal. The fasination he had in his job, his family he didn't want to be around or a part of, his once paranoid obbsession that the government was even more corupt then everyone already knew. But that wasn't what made him not normal, by his standers. It was the fact in the year 1995, he should have died in the middle of a forest, during a one of the worst storms in the state of Illinois. Crushed by a tree, none the less.<br>But now in 2011, nearly 16 years later, he's perfectly healthy, with a loving wife, a beautiful one year old son, and another child on the way. It was perfect... except that it wasn't. The panic hidden under a mask of calm whenever something on a case reminded him of that day, or the nagging feeling that came to his mind when ever he thought of that night. He didn't have to face that secret for 16 years. Not until now.

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><p>"Vic was found by 18 year old Nadia James early this morning," Booth informed Bones as they entered the crime scene, which was blocked off. There was a body, well <em>part<em> of a body, lying on the muddy ground, the victum's upper body was covered in a bloody red tanktop, the flesh still, mostly, intacted. The forensic antropologist could make out the various tattoos covering the female's body, though some were falling off. "Why am I here, this is a body, there are no bones," Dr. Brennen asked Booth.  
>A short man walked up to the two. "We found the rest of the body," The man told them. He led the partners about two miles north where there was a skull, stripped of all it's flesh and organs. It was stained with blood, but other than that perfectly unharmed. "The arms were found two miles east and west of the torso, and the legs were also two miles southwest and south east." Brennen crouched down next to the skull, picking it up and examing it.<br>"High cheek bones suggest our victim is of Native American decent. They were female, most likely in their early 30s, from what I could tell from they body. Consent remodeling of the skull indicates..." she trailed off with no explination for the remodeling of the skull. "She maybe was a fighter when she was younger, but she would have to have been facing a man one hundred time larger than her."  
>"Cause of death?" Booth asked her.<br>"Unknown."  
>"Get this all back to the Jeffersonian."<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: Oh Shit

Dr. Hodgins didn't expect his life to sprial out of control when he walked into the Jeffersonian that morning. Nor to automatically know who the victim was as soon as Angela finished the facial reconstruction. "Her name is Allison Kahòn:tsi, she's Mohawk Indian, lives in Farmington, Illinois," Hodgins told them.  
>"You know this how?" Cam asked Hodgins, not wanting him to ruin another case.<br>"She saved my life," He told her. Panic offically set in, his body tensing and his heart broke just a little.  
>Angela nodded, "That's what I got when I ran it through FBI database, has a criminal record, mostly petty theifs, trespassing charges, breaking and entering her own house because she couldn't find her key, underage drinking, possession, assulted battery." "Sounds like Allison, did you find any relatives? Because all she had was her dad and her little brother when I was there," Hodgins asked his wife.<br>"Her father died two years ago, car crash, her brother is currently living somewhere in New Mexico with his wife and three children, and her son and daughter are in Farmington," Angela told him.  
>Hodgins was caught off guard by that. "She has kids?" He questioned.<br>Angela nodded, "Angeni Dinte and Okwoho Lup Kahòn:tsi. Born Januaruy 24th 1996."  
>"Okwaho, not Okwoho," Hodgins corrected her, making everyone on the platform look up at him. "Allison told me what she was going to name her kids if she had any." The group nodded and went back to what they were doing.<br>"We should see what the kids know, probably fly them out here," Booth thought out loud.

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><p>Angeni sighed, looking around the red kitchen. "She's dead, I just know it," Okwaho sighed, pacing on the hardwood floor. His brownish-red hair would have been stick up all over the place if it hadn't been for the black and red beanie he was wearing. Okwaho's body was tensed as he paced, while his twin sister was sitting in a computer chair that was proped up on two wheels, Angeni keeping it from falling by keeping her toes hooked on the bottom of the hardwood table. She brushed her black bangs out of her face, which were also held down by a black and blue beanie, then ajusted her black bra. Neither of them bothered to get dressed when they woke up because their friends were use to seeing them walk around in their underware, which was usually just boxers, and for Angeni a bra and skimpy tanktop.<br>Angeni's black Western Lyre Snake, named Crowley, slithered up the chair and wrapped around the Mohawk Indian's shoulders. She rolled her left wrist, which was tattooed by a snake, similar to Crowley, wrapped around the feet of a crow, with red eyes. It was only one of the many tattoos that littered her body. Her twin had a similar tattoo on his upper arm, only it was a red snake wrapped around the leg of a brown wolf.  
>"What does it matter Okwa? Not like she was much of a mom in the first place," Angeni hissed at him. She put down the chair and walked to the phone, which rang a second later. Angeni picked up the phone, "Yeah... yeah... why... oh... yeah we can get there... when... ok... thanks... bye." She put the phone back in it's charger.<br>"Who was that?" Her brother asked.  
>"FBI, they found mom's body in Washington D.C., she was murdered."<p>

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><p>The twins collected the bags, which were just two black duffle bags. "Do you think..." Okwaho asked Angeni, who was letting Crowley out of his cage, letting him slither around her arm and shoulder.<br>"No, no way they caught up to her, not here," Angeni whispered back to him, petting Crowley's head, and laughing when some of the women eyed the snake and avoided the twins. "I think that's our ride." She pointed at a man with spikey brown hair, dressed in a faded black suit. He was about the same height as the twins. "Special Agent Seeley Booth? We talked on the phone."  
>"You must be Allison's kids," the Agent said, eyeing Crowley, who's fangs were showing.<br>"I'm Angeni, this is my snake, Crowley, don't worry, all bark, no bite, and that's my brother, Okwaho," she told him, shaking the guy's hand. Okwaho did the same before they walked out to a black SUV, where Angeni hopped in the shotgun seat, throwing her bag in the back at Okwaho. Crowley slithered down onto her lap.  
>"So, do you know how she was killed?" Her twin asked Booth.<br>"Our forenstic antroplogists are trying to figure out," He told them. Crowley nodded for Angeni, leaving the car in slience.


	3. Chapter 3: Silver Bullet

**Sorry for the long, long delay. It'd be longer if I hadn't gotten sick and started watching season 7 of Bones. Don't expect regular updates, I'm barely coaxing old muses out and this one seems to want to stay around for two chapters. Also new warning: this will contain slash. I found it surprising easy to convert this from het to slash. Well my ramblings are over I should probably let you guys read now.**

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><p>"Do you know of anyone that might have wanted to kill your Mom?" Booth asked the twins.<br>The twins sat across from him, Angeni had her chair tipped back on two legs, while Okwaho was leaning against the table. Both looked vaguely like they had rolled out of bed and pulled on the first things they found. Angeni was in a black wife beater and a pair of black skinny jeans that look like they'd been through hell and attempted to be ducttaped and held together with safety pins. The black tattered Converse All-Stars added onto the lazy teenage look. Okwaho was in a Disturbed t-shirt and black men's Nike basketball shorts. Both showed off the twin's mant tattoos and scars; it was clear that Allison wasn't around a lot.  
>The twins simultaneously, in the same voice, said, "No."<br>Then Angeni opened her mouth to speak, "Well..." Her black bangs fell in her face when her brother started to speak.  
>"Wahya, aon, beidh sin mar thoradh ar na ceisteanna nach bhfuil againn freagraí," Okwaho cut her off. The two glared at each other for a few seconds; it was one of those glares that had an unspoken conversation behind it. His redish brown hair fell over his eyes, adding to the intimidating effect.<br>"Well what?" Booth asked them. Suddenly interviewing them sepratelty seemed like a much better idea.  
>Angeni finally turned to him and finished, "She had a lot of people that hated her, probably more than we know of; but they couldn't have been in D.C. at the time."<br>"Why?"  
>Okwaho sighed and answered for his sister, "Most of them are dead, or sitting in this room."<p>

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><p>Wendell looked at the bones, squinting at the extra bones. "What's up with the extra vertebre?" He asked Temprance Booth. "If you line up them up with the uncompleted tailbone—" Wendell started lining up the extra bones, forming a three foot long spinal collume. "It creates a canine-like tail. This isn't a normal dorsal cutaneous appendage."<br>"That's impossible humans can't grow tails that are made of vertebre like this," Temprance said befuddled. Hodgins walked onto the platform, stopping when he saw the remains. All the thoughts disappeared when he heard what they were saying. "Hodgins would you happen to know what the constant remodeling of the victim's skull is?" Her words were so cold it hurt Jack; he didn't care if anyone used her name but don't talk like she wasn't in the room. Dead or not Allison had a way of getting under people's skin and making them care.  
>Hodgins nodded, "Allison fought when she was a teenager. It was MMA worthy from what I saw." All he could give them, even in a murder investigation. There were just some things that even the great mind of Dr. Temprance Brennen couldn't handle. "The bullet was made of silver. She was allergic to it so whoever killed her knew about it."<br>Wendell glanced at the bones, "Starting to look like she was a werewolf." Neither of his fellow squints noticed how Hodgins visibly tensed at the joking statement. He forced a half convincing laugh before disappearing back to his office. This was going to be increasingly difficult for him; especially if or when he met those kids because he couldn't bare the thought of Allison having children with some other man, who didn't stay.  
>There were a pair of soft yet strong hands rubbing the tension away from his shoulders and neck. "This must be hard for you," his wife stated.<br>"Not as hard as it would have been ten years ago," Hodgins admitted looking at the evidence they'd picked up around the area where Allison's body had been found. The bullet was the neon sign he couldn't stop looking at; that one little deformed ball meant that those kids, his son and unborn child, hell his own life was in danger. Angela's too. All signs pointed to a hunter, but there was the chance it was one of their own who did this. Until they discovered the killer he was going to be on edge and tense as hell. Now he just prayed his father-in-law didn't show up. All he needed was Alpha-Wolf Billy catching drift of this and threatening Hodgins to keep his baby girl and grandchildren out of the line of fire. Angela did not need to know about her bloodline until it was absolutely nessecary that she knew.

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><p>This case was going to kill Wendell. The extra vertabre they found couldn't have been from a dead animal or they would have discovered more of the body; also the vetabre were propotionally correct to belong to Allison. Dr. Brennan told him to go home after the rest of the team had abandoned the case for the night. Instead he found himself at the bar of Founding Fathers ordering a Jonnie Walker Black. "Long day?" The male next to him asked, taking a drink of what looked like a dark soda but probably had alcohol mixed in along with it.<br>"Yeah," Wendell replied looking him over. The male didn't look any older than him and was probably using a fake ID to get drinks. He had the same colored hair as Hodgins and the same eyes; accutully it was creepy how similiar the teen next to him looked like his fellow squint. "Swear I'm losing my sanity."  
>The younger male snorted before taking a drink of whatever he had. "Ai là nguòi không mât di su tinh táo cuo ho gân dây?"<br>Wendell raised a dirty blond eyebrow at the younger man, "You speak Vietnamese?"  
>"Among other things," the brunette replied. "Okwaho." He extended a tanned hand out towards Wendell.<br>"Wendell," he told Okwaho, shaking his hand before picking up the whiskey and downing part of it. "So how old are you really?"  
>Okwaho smirked around his drink, "No es legal pero. Diecisiete."<br>"Ah, so I was right, you are using a fake to drink," Wendell laughed finding it easy to have a converation with the seventeen year old. "Don't worry I won't rat you out. I've been in your spot before."  
>Okwaho nodded, "Thanks. Most people woulda taken this from me as soon as I told them how old I am. You must not be that old yourself if your doing me a soild." Sure Wendell didn't find it creepy that he was being checked out by a guy, who wasn't even legal yet; he wasn't a homophobe, he was bi himself. If only the kid was a year older he'd be outright flirting with him, not just buying him drinks.<br>"Legal drinking age a month ago," Wendell replied ordering another round on him.  
>Okwaho was drinking Coke with Jonnie Black and Red while Wendell stuck with straight Black. It wasn't long before the blond was drunk and the Native American next to him was close to the edge. "So what's got you losing your marbles? Something with the case?" Okwaho asked his drinking buddy.<br>Wendell was still sober enough to piece two and one together, "How—hiccup—do you know about that?"  
>The seventeen year old let out something between a burp and a laugh, "We have news, even in my podunk little town. I know you're an intern to Dr. Temprance Brennan, and I've heard about the body that was found. Pretty gruesome from what I've heard. Was she really cut up in six parts and spread out in the woods?"<br>"I'm not—hiccup—aloud to—hiccup—talk about the—hic—case with anyone," Wendell replied. The room really wasn't starting to spin was it? There weren't four incredibly hot underage guys questioning him about the case were there? Wendell realised he was going to need to call in sick the next morning from the massive headache he was going to have. "I think I should go home." The blond intern tried to stand up but ended up nearly collapsing and being caught by Okwaho.  
>The younger man laughed, pulling out a wad of cash and paying off their bar tabs, before half dragging, half becoming a crutch for Wendell as they made their way outside into the cold DC late night air. Wendell was pretty sure it was around one in the morning since there were still people getting sloshed off their asses. Okwaho managed to hail a taxi and shove Wendell inside. "He better not puke in here," the taxi driver told the Native American. Wendell managed to audiblly spill out his address to the driver after ten seconds of slurring the numbers.<p>

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><p>He let out a faint growl when the blond blocked his shot of the Native American he had been stalking for the night. The girl had already dislocated his arm and jacked his knife, and this boy was making it increasingly difficult to eliminate the bloodline they carried. Their mother had given him some intense wounds but he had still manged to kill her; their father and his new family were too well protected to go after just yet, so it had to be the teenagers.<br>An idea formed when he watched the two males kiss infront of the apartment building, the Native American searching the older male's pockets for most likely a key while the blond was reaching under the target's t-shirt. He packed up the high powered rifle and returned to his apartment, plotting his plan of attack.


	4. Chapter 4: Morning After

Wendell hated himself the next morning when he woke up. His brain was pounding against his skull and he wished he could stab all the assholes honking their horns outside his window. He wasn't sure if his stomach was going to hold its contents for much longer. Wendell rolled over, lolling his head over the edge of his small bed and reproducing the alcohol from the night before into a trash can. At the moment he didn't care how it got there but calling into the Jerffersonion and telling Cam he was sick. He reached blindly on the nightstand for his cellphone. It took a few minutes of head pounding ringing before his boss finally picked up and he mumbled out an excuse. Wendell shut the phone and dropped it on the wooden stand, returning to where he was when he woke up, wrapping his arms around the warm body next to him. He fell asleep again with his head buried in a sweet smelling neck.

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><p>He wasn't quite sure what time it was when he woke up the second time that day but he could tell whoever had been in bed with him was no longer there. Images from the night before started slowly returning to him and he mentally cussed. Wendell raised the sheets to make sure he still had boxers. He sighed in relief when he saw he still had the pair of semi-clean boxers on that he'd put on the morning before; so he probably didn't sleep with the minor. The smell of food wafted through the small apartment and Wendell's empty stomach urged him to roll out of bed to investigate.<br>Remembering the trash can filled with his puke he used the oppisite side in which Okwaho had been sleeping on prior. His bedroom was littered with clothes, his and the younger man's. He picked up an undershirt he was pretty sure belonged to him, and proceded into his kitchen, where a sexy, shirtless seventeen year old was making him breakfast, or lunch since it was around one in the afternoon. The Native American bit into a strip of bacon, his wet hair dripping down his face. God, this kid was going to be the death him if they ever pursued a relationship. "Morning Sleeping Beauty, finally puked up the last of your alcohol?" Okwaho asked jokingly as he handed Wendell a plate of bacon, pancakes, and hash browns. "You're welcome, and don't protest because I will throw burning bacon grease on your face. Trust me, I've done it to my friends before." Wendell sat down at the old wooden table, biting into the bacon, which tasted like steak. "How long have you been up?" He asked between bites.  
>Okwaho looked at the clock, pulling down the baggy black and gray boxers that kept riding up his thighs. "About an hour and thirty minutes. Fifteen of those were spent trying to escape your death grip. Dude, you need to work on not choking the people who sleep in the same bed with you to death. I'm an expert on people who look weaker than they really are but you are rediculious," he told his host as he sat down with his own plate of bacon and pancakes. "Sorry but I enjoy living." Wendell smirked as he scanned over the expanse of naked, inked skin.<br>It was amasing how much money this kid must have if he had that many tattoos. Which reminded him, "I'll pay you back for everything, I swear."  
>Okwaho shook his head, "It's fine dude, letting me sleep here is enough, don't need to get yourself into more debt then it looks like you're already in." Wendell opened his mouth to protest and received a death glare that would stop Batman in his tracks. "Don't try and fight me on this; I don't need the money Wendell, anyways I prefer not to feel like a Hooker."<br>Wendell made an attempt to muffle his laugh, "Not like I have anything to pay you for."  
>"Except the food, alcohol, making sure your ass didn't get killed, oh and the fact you striped me down to my boxers, so the show," Okwaho retorted through a mouthful of bacon and chocolate syurp. Wendell blanced at his words. "Don't worry there was nothing more than kissing, though I think you left some brusies on my hips. Maybe a hicky or two." Okwaho started choking on his breakfast while laughing at Wendell who was five shades paler than normal. Once the Mohawk Indian swallowed his food down the right pipe he reasured the twenty-one year old, "Just kidding. I only have the brusies from when you gripped my hips too hard."<br>Wendell's American Foxhound was rubbing up against Okwaho, who fed him a few strips of bacon. "I kinda pictured you as the person with a smaller dog. Or a German Sheppard."  
>"He was a stray; I'm a sucker for canines. I took him in," Wendell replied. Okwaho smirked happily at that comment. He looked over at Okwaho intensely, remembering their conversation last night. "Why did you want to know about the case I'm working on?" Okwaho wasn't looking at Wendell directly while chewing his pancakes. The intern tried to remember Allison's two kids names, since they were pretty uniquie. Realisation dawned on him as he covered his face with his hand and sighed, "You're Allison's son aren't you?" He noticed the tiny nod from the Native American. "And I suppose you're a suspect."<br>Okwaho shook his head, swallowing before replying, "Not me; my twin though might be; right now Agent Booth's calling our 'uncle' back in Illinois, maybe a few of our friends and her boyfriend, to get an alibi. I pretty much already cleared her since we have absolutely no money to get plane tickets and Wayha is terrified of flying; both of us are really. Flying out here was hell. Guy that was stuck next to Wahya has nail marks in his arms." The young male stared at his hands for a while, the slience creeping . "She hit us; well she hit me, I wouldn't let her touch Wayha. It wasn't a commen thing, but whenever she was really drunk she'd take out all the shit on me. Both of us didn't care when she left for her job for weeks on end. Actually, we couldn't wait for it." He looked up, brown eyes not settling on one spot for more than an instant. "Mind if I borrow your phone? Mines back at the hotel and Ang must be worried about me."  
>Wendell nodded, "It's on the nightstand." Okwaho got up and disappeared into the appartment. Wendell would have to keep that in mind.<p>

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><p>"Thank gods, where are you Okwaho?" Angeni sighed in relief when he said hi.<br>Okwaho looked over at the door, "One of the investigator's apartment. His name's Wendell Bray. Why? Are you ok Ang?"  
>"Yeah, just this guy tried to attack me last night, I'm okay, dislocated his shoulder and jacked his knife. I tried calling you, but you left your phone here," she replied.<br>The Native American wished he was at the hotel room now. "I'm coming back, stay there and don't open the door until I get there," he hissed, grabbing his cargo shorts and starting to pull them on.  
>"No, you stay there, enjoy your time with whoever it is. You need to get laid. I'll be fine, just stay where you are, probably safer there," Angeni told him. "I'll kill you if you show up here now. Just stay there."<br>"Okay, call me later, see ya tomorrow," he replied, ending the call before she could continue to talk. He pulled the camo shorts the rest of the way up his legs, buttoning them before going back out into the kitchen. "Mind if I stay here tonight and you give me a ride home tomorrow?"  
>"Sure Okwaho," Wendell replied, looking at the younger male. Yeah, this kid was gonna be the death of him.<p> 


	5. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

**I am deeply sorry for not updating in forever, but I am going on a tempoary hiatus until this summer. School is hectic and with how my writer's block on some of these are going I find it better to finish these stories before I post so I can try for a more regular schedule. Last September the writing app on my phone deleted itself and I lost a lot of what I had, had written and I hit a major writing block afterwards. For some I may not continue (Sorry fans of my Nine Lives of Chole King story, but once I found out that it was cancled, I died a little inside) others, hopefully you'll get an update (first one for sure is Werewolf in Bathory, if my writer's block disappears).**

**For the people awaiting my Arrow chapter fic, that will be a while, I need to get all the episodes (got the Pilot and am currently writing the Prolouge and Chapter 1) on iTunes.**

**Also, Leverage and Sanctuary fans, I mourn with you over the loss of our shows.**

**Until Next Time My Minons.**

**Spawn of Hades**


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